NaNoWriMo 8

Abbey was up earlier than usual the next morning. She was excited but also had a lot of tasks to accomplish and wanted to get a big jump on the day. It was dark outside the sun not even hinting at rising yet. She lit a lamp carrying it down the stairs and into the kitchen. She kindled the embers from last night and soon had the kitchen nice and warm. She lit another lamp and both from hook in the ceiling so that she could see more easily. She mixed up a small batch of biscuits, laid strips of bacon out in her skillet, scrambled eggs in a bowl waiting for the last minute to cook them. She had coffee brewing and ready for Tom’s first cup when he appeared in the doorway. “You’re up early,� was his comment as he kissed her good morning. “I really wanted to get a start on the day. There are a lot of things to unpack and sort as well as store away.� “It will all still be there when you get to it. Don’t over it do today.� “I don’t want things to sit in crates on the porch. First off it is an eyesore and secondly I don’t want to chance things being ruined if it blows up a rain. I have heard this time of year rain is unpredictable and snow cam come without a warning.� She sipped a steaming cup of coffee. Tom nodded his understanding waiting to speak after he had swallowed. “Why don’t I send a Mrs. Cates’ daughter up later this morning to help with the chores? She is a nice girl. She and her mother could benefit from her having a few hours work.� Abbey was thoughtful for a moment before she spoke. “I would like to agree to the idea of help but really we -I - have no clue as to what is in the crates and barrels and I can’t leave someone to put things away when I have no idea yet where they will be put myself.� Tom nodded as he chewed listening at the same time. “Let me get the majority of it out of the way and then if I need help I will certainly have Margaret come up an afternoon or two.� “You have a point. I had not thought about that.� He drained the last of the coffee from his mug and rose from his chair. He reached for his jacket on the peg by the backdoor and shrugged into it. Kissing him at the door she saw him out on his way to the store and she hurriedly put away the items from breakfast. The extra bacon she wrapped and placed in a tin on the counter. She didn’t plan to stop and prepare a big meal at noon. Instead Tom would be getting a bacon sandwich with fruit and cheese. Bringing in the pots of furniture cleaner and wax, she gathered soft clean squares of flannel to use and headed to the front rooms downstairs. She had finished with the pieces in the parlor and was moving to the dinning room when she could finally extinguish the flame in her oil lamp. She took her time polishing the wide dining table. Her hands lovingly spread the polish over its smooth long surface and she caressed it to a mirrored sheen. The smell of bees wax and lemon oil and turpentine was strong lending to the proof of her efforts. At the same time it was a pleasant scent that lifted her spirits and gave her added energy to finish the bedrooms upstairs. She and Tom had slept in the massive bed downstairs and she blushed at the thought when recalling Tom’s teasing about chasing her around in the bed like a boy on a playground. Her cheeks shown pink when she recalled she had let him catch her ‘on the playground’. She stripped the bed laying the sheets aside so as to not soil them while she paid the same careful attention to the beautifully carved wood of the bed they slept in. She probably took more time working in their bedroom than any other. It was suddenly a very intimate space and she wanted to keep all of the secrets it held and would hold to herself. Tom came up early for his lunch. The smell of the cleaning fluids and wax met him at the door and he teased her about over doing it. “I am ready to open the first of those barrels and crates,� she told him as she spread mayonnaise on thick slices of fresh bread. “I am surprised you haven’t already,� Tom reaches around her to whisk a strip of bacon from the plate. “I have been cleaning and polishing first. It makes more sense to it now than to have work around everything later,� she tapped the back of his hand with the handle of her knife. Tom slide his hands and around her waist and leaned in close against her watching over her shoulder as she made his sandwich. “I will need your help getting them opened,� she craned her neck around to look up at him. “That’s no problem. After lunch I’ll open several and give you time to unpack them then come back up to the house and crack open a few more.� He kissed along the side of her neck causing her to shiver and goose flesh to pop up along her arms. “Stop that,� he laughed and tried to move out of his arms, finding herself trapped between him and the counter top. “I can’t,� he continued to leave biting little kisses along her jaw. “Tom, please …� “Tom, please … what?� he prompted. “Please …� she couldn’t think clear. “Yes? Please? Don’t stop?� “Yes, please don’t stop,� the words came out in a rasp. She was weak kneed and sure that she would crumple to a heap on the kitchen floor if he moved an inch away from her. The racing of her heart hammered in her ears. The heave of her chest was forced as she dragged air in to lings that seemed to have forgotten how to breath. Through a fog of thought confusion set in as the hammering in her ears got louder. It wasn’t until Tom pulled away from her that she realized someone was knocking loudly on the back door. She struggled to regain her composure. Thankfully Tom was the one to answer the door. Her cheeks were a red that could not be explained by heat of the kitchen. It wasn’t hot where she stood and she murmured a quick apology and excused herself. She stood in the cool between the kitchen and the evening parlor. Attempting she slow her breathing she fanned her face hoping the heat would leave her cheeks. When she had gathered some bit of sense about her she opened the door and went back into the kitchen. Tom was thanking the young boys who stood in the kitchen each one holding a fat round orange pumpkin. “Hello, boys,� she greeted the two sons of George and Myrtis Franklin, the proprietors of the feed and farm supply just across the dusty road from their own establishment. “Momma sent us over with pumpkins, ma’am,� the freckled older boy smiled. “She says you will want fresh pies for Thanksgiving and wanted you to have two of ours.� “You tell your momma I said thank you and how happy I am to be able to cook my husband a pumpkin pie for our thanksgiving dinner.� Abbey smiled at the boy. “You boys leave those pumpkins on the table. Tom haven’t we got something in the jar over in the cupboard for two boys who carried such nice pumpkins all the way here?� “Why I think we do,� Tom made a big show out of taking the big glass canister out and letting the boys see it was filled with delicious looking pieces of candy. “Whoa,� came the muffled sound from the youngest boy and he was elbowed by his brother and given a stern look to mind his manners. Tom gave them both two pieces of the sugary treat because they had of course brought two big pumpkins and boy who carried heavy pumpkins need something to restore all the energy. It was a delight to her to watch their faces when they received the candies and even more fun to see them tear out across the yard when they had thanked her and tom properly and managed to get out of the house with their manners still intact. Tom caught her off guard by pulling her to him and landing a long kiss on her lips. “Remember where we were when we were interrupted. I’ll be back for what is mine after my supper,� he winked at her and left a smack on her fanny before waltzing out of the house much the same way those two young boys had just left. She knew she would be forgetting any time soon. She called to him not to forget the crates and he in turned called back he need to get a pry bar and would be back in a jiffy. While her husband went about his task she once again straightened the kitchen. Everything was neat and in its place soon enough and she went to the front porch where Tom was prying the lid off of the first of the household goods.